XXI
TURNING THE TABLES
The moonlight had given place to darkness, and Alex was thoroughlyexhausted from his long walk when the fence of a corral, then a group ofsmall buildings, loomed up, and his captor announced that they were attheir destination.
"Do you live here all alone?" Alex asked, seeing no lights.
"Since you fellows captured Bucks--yes," responded the cowboy, halting atthe corral bars. Dismounting, he whipped saddle and bridle from the ponyas it passed inside, and replacing the bars, led the way to the house.
It was a small, meagerly-furnished room that a match, then a lamp,disclosed. Against the rear wall was a small stove, in the center a roughtable, at either end a low cot, and in one corner a cupboard. Two orthree chairs, some pictures and calendars and two or three saddlescompleted the contents. The floor was of hard earth.
"That'll be your bunk there," said the owner, indicating one of the cots."And you can turn in just as soon as you like."
Crossing the room, he stood at the foot of the bed, thinking. "What's thetrouble? It looks comfortable enough," observed Alex, following.
"I have it," said the cowman, and going to the saddles, he returned witha coiled lariat. Alex laughed uncomfortably.
"Lie down," the man directed. "Or, hold on! Let's see first if you haveany knives about you." Objection would have been fruitless, and Alex ofhis own accord surrendered his pocket-knife.
"Now lie down."
With what grace he could, Alex complied. Making a slip-loop in the centerof the lariat, the cowman passed it over one of the boy's ankles, andmade the holding-knot as firm as he could draw it. Then passing the twoends of the rope inside one of the lower legs of the cot, he ran themacross the room and secured them to his own bed.
"That'll leave you comfortable, and put the knots out of temptation," heremarked. "Also, if you start any wriggling this old shake-down of minewill act as watch-dog. It squeaks if you look at it. And I'm a powerfullight snoozer, and powerful quick with the gun when it's necessary," headded, with an emphasis which Alex could not doubt.
Nevertheless, when presently the cowman blew out the light, and retired,Alex only waited until a steady, deep snore announced that the man wasasleep. Cautiously he sat up, and reached toward his encircled ankle.
The knots had been secured cleverly and tightly. Pry and pull as hecould, they gave no more than if they had been made of wire.
Working lower, Alex sought to reach the cot leg, to see whether it wasfixed to the floor. With some difficulty, because of the sitting positionmade necessary, he was straining toward it, when suddenly the bound footlunged from him, the rope tightened, and from the cot opposite came asqueak. The snoring instantly ceased, and Alex sat motionless, holdinghis breath. The ominous silence continued, and finally he lay back with amovement as though turning in his sleep.
Minute after minute passed, and still the breathing of the man across theroom did not resume.
Then suddenly, it seemed, Alex found himself sitting upright, anddaylight flooding the room. He had fallen asleep.
The second cot was empty, but a moment after the door opened and thecowman appeared.
"How did you sleep, stranger?" he inquired. "I thought for a spell lastnight you were trying some funny business."
Alex laughed. "I slept like a log," he declared truthfully, ignoring thelast remark. "Are you going to keep me tied up here all day?"
"Until after breakfast anyway," responded his host, proceeding to start afire in the stove. "Suppose you'll have some bacon and coffee?"
"Thank you, yes. I'm more than hollow, after that Marathon run you gaveme last night."
As the cowman turned to the cupboard Alex seized the opportunity toexamine the leg of the cot about which the lassoo was passed. Withdisappointment he discovered it to be a stout post driven into the floor.
Despite the discomfort of his position Alex enjoyed the simple breakfastof biscuits and bacon. He was passing his cup for a third filling of thefragrant coffee, when his host abruptly sat the coffee-pot down andlistened. "Someone coming," he remarked. Alex also heard the hoofbeats.They approached rapidly, there was a step at the door, and a tall,well-dressed figure in riding-breeches and leggings appeared. At sight ofAlex he halted in surprise.
"Who's this, Munson?" he demanded.
The cowman led the way outside and closed the door, and low words toldAlex that he was explaining the previous night's occurrences. More, theytold him that this well-dressed man was the connecting link between theK. & Z. and the men who were seeking to interfere with the Middle Westernin the race for the Yellow Creek Pass.
What would be the outcome of the man's visit for him? Alex asked himself.For the newcomer would not fail to appreciate the disadvantage of havingbeen seen there by the young employee of the M. W.
The young operator was not left long in doubt. The door again opened, andthe stranger re-entered, followed by the cowman, and without preliminaryplaced a chair before Alex and dropped into it.
"Look here, my boy," he began, "how would you like to earn some extramoney--a good decent sum?"
At once seeing the man's intention, Alex bridled indignantly. Butsuppressing his feelings, he responded, "I'd like to as well as anyoneelse, I suppose--if I can earn it honorably."
At the last word a flush mounted to the stranger's cheeks, but hecontinued. "Well, that's all a matter of opinion, you know. Every man hashis own particular code of honor. However--
"You probably have guessed who I am?"
"A K. & Z. man."
"Yes. Now look here: Suppose the K. & Z. was anxious to know from day today the precise progress the Middle Western is making in this race forYellow Creek, and suppose they were willing to pay a hundred dollars amonth for the information--would that proposition interest you?"
Alex replied promptly, "No, sir. And anyway, it's not the information youwant. It's my silence."
The man's face darkened. He had one more card to play, however.
"Well, let it go at that, then. And suppose, in addition to a hundred amonth to keep silent as to seeing me here, and what you have learnedgenerally, I should give you--" He thrust his hand into an inside pocketand brought forth a long pocketbook. "Suppose I should give you, say twohundred dollars, cash?"
Alex caught a knee between his hands and leaned back against the wall.
"I'm not for sale," he replied quietly.
The would-be briber thrust the book back into his pocket and sprang tohis feet, purple with anger.
"Very well, my young saint," he sneered, "stay where you are, then--tillwe're good and ready to let you go!"
He strode to the door, Munson following him. "If he tries to get away,"Alex heard him add as he mounted his horse, "shoot him! I'll protectyou!"
"You _are_ a young fool, all right," Munson said, returning. "You'vesimply made it worse for yourself. You've sure now got to stay righthere, indefinite.
"And, as he ordered," the cowman added determinedly, "if you try to makea break-away of it, I'll sure shoot--and shoot to kill! When I go into athing, I put it through!"
Alex, however, had no intention of staying, whatever the risks, and whenpresently Munson, after assuring himself that the knots were secure,passed out, he immediately addressed himself to the task of making hisescape. It did not look difficult at first sight, since both hands werefree, and only one foot tied. But an energetic attempt to loosen thecleverly-tied slip-loop failed as completely as it had the night before.Likewise, strain as he could at the cot leg, he could not budge it, sofirmly was it driven into the hard ground.
With something like despair Alex at last relinquished these endeavors,and turned to the problem of cutting the rope in some way. In the hope offinding a nail with which he might pick or fray the lariat apart, he madea thorough examination of the cot. There were nails, but they were drivenin beyond hope of drawing with his fingers.
Dispiritedly Alex relinquished the search, and sat up. His eyes wanderedto the window near him
. Starting to his feet, he strained toward it.
The lower corner of one of the panes had been broken, and the triangle ofglass leaned inward loosely. With a low expression of hope Alex wasreaching for it, when from the rear of the cabin sounded the returningfootsteps of the cowman. Speedily Alex sank back on the cot, and assumedan air of dejection.
A few minutes later the boy again found himself alone. But in themeantime he had decided to leave the securing of the fragment of glassand the attempt at escape until night. In further preparation for theattempt Alex that afternoon stretched himself on the cot, and sleptseveral hours.
To the young operator it seemed that the cowman would never retire thatnight. And when at length he blew out the light, and threw himself uponhis bed, he apparently lay an interminable time awake. At length,however, when the moonlight in the window pointed to approachingmidnight, there came a faint regular breathing, then a full long snore.Without loss of time Alex got to his feet at the foot of the cot, andleaning against the wall, reached toward the window.
He could just touch the broken corner of pane with the tips of hisfingers. Moving his supporting hand farther along the wall, he drew back,and reached forward with a lunge. This time he got his wrist on thewindow-ledge. Thus leaning, he finally secured a hold on the fragment ofglass with his fingers, and pulled on it. A crackle caused him to falter.Munson's breathing continued undisturbed. At the next pull the piece camefree. The next moment Alex was sitting on the cot-end, sawing at the ropewith the sharp edge of the broken glass.
To his disappointment, the edge, though sharp to the feel, did not cutinto the closely-woven and seasoned twine as he had expected. Vigorouslyhe sawed away, however, and at last found that the extemporized knife wastaking hold.
And finally, as the last gleam of moonlight died from the window-panes,the remaining strand was severed, and there was a faint slap as the ropefell to the floor. A restless move by the sleeper and a momentarycessation of the snoring gave Alex a thrill of fear. Then the heavybreathing resumed, and getting to his feet, he slipped to the door, foundthe catch, lifted it, and passed out.
As he closed the door, Alex paused a moment to assure himself that thecowman was still breathing regularly, and turned away jubilantly.
Exultation over his escape was considerably tempered when Alex discoveredthat the moon was almost down in the west, and that in addition the skyoverhead was clouding. He set off immediately, however, heading straightnorth, and when a safe distance had been put between him and the cabin,broke into a run.
At a steady jog Alex kept on for several miles over the dimly-lit plain.Then the moon finally disappeared, and he fell into a rapid walk. Sometime later he halted in alarm. Was he going in the right direction? Onevery hand was a wall of darkness, and overhead not a star was to beseen.
He moved on, and again halted to debate the situation. Certainly, for thetime being, he was lost. What should he do? Remain where he was tilldaylight? or go ahead, and take the chance of circuiting back? He decidedto continue.
Perhaps an hour later, still pushing ahead, Alex strode full tilt into abarb-wire fence. As he staggered back a second cry broke from him. Had hecircled back to Munson's corral?
His heart in his throat, he felt hurriedly along the top wire to a post,and reached upward. A gasp of relief greeted the discovery that the topof the post was well within his reach. The corral posts were not lessthan eight or nine feet, with wires to the top.
A further cheering idea followed. On the ride to the Antelope viaduct hehad noted a three-wire fence similar to this paralleling the right-of-wayfor several miles. Perhaps this was the same fence?
If he only knew its direction!
Dropping to the ground for a brief rest, Alex set his brains at recallingevery bit of woods or plains lore he had ever heard or read of for thetelling of direction.
It was a puff of air against his cheek that suggested the answer.
The prevailing wind! What was it here?
Southwest!
In a moment he was on his knees at the foot of the adjacent fence-post.
On the farther side, half covering the dead grass, was a small eddy ofsand!
Hopefully Alex hastened to the next post. _The same!_
To make doubly sure, he tried the third, and with an exulting, "_The sameagain!_" started to his feet, and struck on, whistling gaily, confidenthe was heading due north, and that this was the same fence he had seenalong the new embankment.
A further cheering thought occurred to the young operator presently. Theconstruction-train should not be far from the stretch of road whichparalleled the fence!
Onward he pushed through the darkness at a steady, swinging gait, feelingfrequently for the fence, to make sure he was not wandering.
For what seemed several hours Alex had been walking, when a faint lightappeared in the sky. It was to his right. His plainsmanship had not puthim amiss.
As the light brightened he gazed anxiously ahead. The ragged, thin-postedfence stretched unbroken to the northern horizon. He had hoped the lightwould reveal the swing to the east, and the dark shape of theconstruction-train.
Alex continued steadily ahead, however, buoying up his lagging energieswith pictures of a hot, appetizing meal and a pleasant meeting with Jackand the rest of his friends on the train. And finally, when the sun hadbeen some time above the horizon, he uttered a shout. Far in front, butdistinct in the beautifully clear air, the fence turned abruptly to theeast. And less than a mile sun-ward was a long dark shape and columns ofsmoke rising lazily into the air.
Scrambling through the fence, Alex set off on a bee-line for the train,whistling a brisk march.
Five minutes later the whistler paused in the middle of a note and spunsharply about. The color left his bronzed face. A mile to the rear, onthe other side of the fence, a horseman was following him at full speed.A glance at the white-faced pony told it was Munson, and turning, Alexwas off, running with every ounce of his remaining energy.
The thud of the hoofs gained rapidly.
Closer they came, and Alex headed off farther from the fence. Perhapshe'll be afraid to put the horse at the wire, he thought hopefully. Heglanced back. The cowman was wheeling off for the jump.
In despair Alex looked over the long mile still separating him from thetrain, and again over his shoulder. Would the horse make it? He slightlyslowed his steps as the animal made the rush.
It went over like a bird.
Gritting his teeth, Alex dashed straight back for the fence. "I'll makehim jump his head off before he gets me, anyway," he said grimly.Flogging the pony, the cowman endeavored to head the boy off, but Alexreached the wire, and dove safely through. Scrambling to his feet, he wason again, this time keeping closer to the fence.
It was as the pony drew up abreast fifty feet distant, and while thetrain was still a good mile away, that the idea of signalling for help onthe fence-wire occurred to Alex. He acted immediately. Catching up agood-sized stone, he ran forward, and on the topmost wire, near one ofthe posts, pounded with all his might the telegraph dot letters "_Oh! Oh!Orr! Orr!_"
Munson had pulled up as Alex ran for the fence. When the boy beganpounding the wire he at once recognized its purpose, and sprang from hishorse, drawing his pistol.
Instantly Alex darted on, carrying the stone. The cowman ran after. Butthe man was slow on his feet, and despite his fatigue, Alex drew awayfrom him.
"Stop, or I'll shoot!" cried the cow-puncher. "_Pull up! I will!_"
"Go ahead, and they'll hear you at the train!" called Alex, thoughsecretly trembling. The cowman hesitated, then returned the revolver toits holster, and ran back for his horse. Immediately Alex was again atthe wire, pounding out, "_Oh! Oh! Orr! Orr!_"
The cowman was again up with him, and once more he ran on, gazinganxiously toward the train for signs of commotion to show his appeal hadbeen heard.
For some distance the strange race continued, the cowman, angry andpuzzled, on one side of the fence, Alex keeping close to the
wires on theother, in readiness to dodge under should his pursuer jump.
Finally the rider again swung off, and headed in at a gallop. Grimly Alexhalted. With a rush the horse came directly toward him. Waiting until itwas within a few yards of him, he dropped to his knees, and crawled halfway through the fence.
It was his undoing. Straight at him the horseman came, as though to jump.Then suddenly the rider whirled broadside, leaned from the saddle, andbefore Alex, wildly scrambling, could withdraw, had him firmly by thehair. By main force the cowboy dragged his prisoner through the fence,and upright beside him.
With a half-stifled sob Alex lurched limply against the pony's shoulders."Never mind, kid," said the cowman not unkindly. "You made a good fightof it. You did your best. But I had to do my best too.
"If you'll give me your word to go quiet, I'll let you ride behind me,"he added. "Promise?"
Alex cast a last look back toward the construction-train. A few figureswere moving about, slowly. Clearly his signals had not been heard.
"All right," he said wearily, and with some difficulty mounting behindthe cowboy, they were off the weary way he had come.
* * * * *
Jack, at the construction-train, rose late that morning. He had been upnearly all night, awaiting news from the viaduct search-party, whichthroughout the entire day had been scouring the nearby country for hisunaccountably missing chum. As he emerged from the telegraph-car door hefound the Indian, Little Hawk, on the adjoining steps of the store-car.
"Good morning, Mr. Little Hawk," he said. "Sunning yourself?"
"I wait for you. I hear noise--knock," the Indian said.
"Knock, like little tick-knock in car," he added as Jack regarded him,mystified.
"Tick-knock? What do you mean?"
"On fence," said the Indian stolidly. "Hearum twice. Like dis:" And whileJack's eyes opened wide, with a stone he held in his hand the Indiantapped on the iron hand-rail of the car the telegraph words,"Oh--Oh--Orr."
In a moment Jack was on the ground before him, all excitement. "Where?Where did you hear it?" he cried.
"Fence. Sleep dar," said the Indian, pointing to the nearby fence. "Not'ink much about. Den see horse run--way dar. Den t'ink tick-knock, an'come you."
Uttering a shrill shout Jack was off on the jump to find SuperintendentFinnan. And fifteen minutes later the superintendent, Little Hawk, andone of the foremen, mounted, were away on the gallop along the ranchfence toward the point at which the Indian had seen the disappearinghorseman.
* * * * *
Alex was thoroughly exhausted when he found himself once more at theranch. Slipping to the ground, he entered the cabin of his own accord,and threw himself dejectedly upon the couch.
"You've near spoiled a dinged fine rope," observed Munson, following him,and kicking at the lariat, still stretched across the floor. "Oh, well, Ican take it out of the K. & Z.
"Now for some breakfast. Suppose you don't feel too bad to grub, eh?Though you sure don't deserve none."
As on the previous morning, Alex and his jailer were near the conclusionof the meal when hoofbeats again told of the approach of a visitor. Goingto the door, the cowman announced "Bennet."
"So that's his name, is it?" said Alex quickly.
"What? Did I say--Well, let it go. I don't see that it makes muchdifference. Yes, Bennet's his name.
"And mighty lucky thing I have you back here," he added over hisshoulder.
"Good morning, Mr. Bennet," he said. "Caught us at breakfast again."
"Breakfast! What are you doing at breakfast this time of day?" inquiredthe K. & Z. man, entering. When the cowman explained, the newcomerglowered at Alex threateningly. "Why didn't you shoot?" he demanded.
"Too near the train. They would have heard it," responded Munson.
"Well, clear off the table. I have something I want to show you," saidBennet, producing what looked like a map from his pocket.
"And you get off to a corner," he snarled at Alex. "Why isn't he tiedup?" he demanded of the cowboy.
"He agreed to a twenty-four hours' truce--not to make another break inthat time," the cowman answered as he swept their few dishes into thecupboard.
Bennet's lip curled under his moustache. "And you believe him, eh?"
There was a suggestion of tartness in the cowman's prompt "Sure! He rodebehind me all the way back, on his word not to attempt anything, and keptit. Could have pulled my own gun on me if he'd wanted to."
"The more fool," muttered the railroad man as he spread the roll of paperon the table.
Alex meantime had stepped to the window from which he had taken thefragment of glass, and was disconsolately watching a half dozen hensscratching about below.
Lifting his eyes, he glanced out over the plain. The men at the tableheard a sharply-indrawn breath. It was immediately changed into a lowwhistling, however, and they gave their attention again to the map.
Alex had discovered three horsemen heading for the ranch from the north.And the leading pony he would have known in a hundred. It was LittleHawk's heavily-mottled horse.
That they were coming to his assistance--that someone had heard theknocking on the wire--he had not a doubt.
The horsemen were still some distance out of hearing. Ceasing thewhistling, Alex glanced casually toward the table. Seated in chairs, thetwo men were still deeply engrossed in the plan before them, talking inlow voices.
When on turning back to the window Alex recognized the second horseman asSuperintendent Finnan, he shot a further glance toward the K. & Z. man atthe table, and a smile of anticipation and delight overspread his face.
Then suddenly it occurred to him that in a few minutes the hoofbeats ofthe on-coming horses would be heard, and that Bennet would have time toget to the door and escape.
He must halt his rescuers, and signal them to approach on foot!
A moment Alex thought, then casually remarking to the cowman, "I'm goingto open the window. It's hot," unlatched and swung the sash inward. Themove passed unnoticed, and leaning out he pretended to call the chickens.
What he was in reality doing was energetically waving his handkerchiefbackwards and forwards below, making the railroad "stop" signal.
The horsemen came on. If they came much farther they would be heard!
He paused, and waved again, more energetically. The third horseman pulledup. Quickly Alex followed with the signal to "come ahead with caution."The rear pony spurred forward, pulled up beside the second, andapparently at a call, the Indian also halted. On Alex repeating the lastsignal, all dismounted, and he knew he had been understood.
Leaving their horses where they were, the three men came on at a quickwalk. Alex, continuing to talk to the hens, could scarcely contain hissecret delight.
When his rescuers were within a hundred yards of the cabin, he once moresignalled caution, and they continued stealthily, revolvers in hand.
They reached the corner of the house, unheard by the men at the table.The superintendent raised his eyebrows questioningly. Alex glanced overhis shoulder, and nodded sharply. The next moment there was a rush offeet without, and all in a twinkle Bennet and the cowman were out oftheir chairs, at the door, and staggering back before three threateningrevolvers. Staring open-mouthed, they brought up beside the overturnedtable.
Alex's words were the first. "These were the chickens I was calling, Mr.Bennet," he remarked gleefully. The K. & Z. man recovered himself andturned on the boy, white with passion. He was stopped by an exclamationfrom Finnan. "Bennet! George Bennet! What are you doing here?"
"Perhaps this will explain, sir," said Alex, handing over the map, whichhe had caught up during the excitement. Bennet made a frantic move tointercept him, but promptly Little Hawk's revolver was in his face, andhe sank back into a chair, gritting his teeth.
"A plan showing every bridge and culvert on our line, and directions forblowing them all up, simultaneously! Well--" Words
failed thesuperintendent.
"And this is what you have come to, Bennet? I'd never have believed it!"
There was a second awkward silence, when Superintendent Finnan suddenlybroke it with, "Look here. I've got you now, haven't I? I've got youwhere I can put you in jail for a year or so at least. Well, instead ofdoing that, I'll make you a proposition:
"Drop all this kind of work; guarantee that there will be no more ofit--agree to make it a straight, square building race between your roadand mine, the first one to reach the Pass to win--guarantee that, andI'll let you go.
"Do you agree?"
Bennet rose to his feet and held out his hand. "I'll give you my solemnword, Finnan.
"And--and I'm awfully sorry I ever consented to go into this kind ofthing," the K. & Z. man went on, a quaver in his voice. "But it was putup to me, and when I'd taken the first step, I thought I'd have to carryit through."
He turned to Alex. "I'm sorry for the way you have been treated, my lad.You are a plucky boy, and straight. You keep on as you have, and you'llnever find yourself in the position I am.
"I offered him two hundred dollars cash and a hundred a month to keep hismouth quiet," the speaker explained to the superintendent, "and herefused it."
"How about the Antelope viaduct, Mr. Finnan?" Alex asked as they rodeaway, he on one of Munson's loaned ponies. "It wasn't blown up?"
"No, but an attempt of some kind was made. Rather a mysterious affair,"the superintendent said. "Late last night an Italian of the fill gang wasseen stealing to one of the main foundations, then kicking and tearingsomething to pieces. Norton followed him, and found some fuses, andfragments of paper that had been wrapped about some strange kind ofexplosive, which apparently had failed to ignite. The Italian has notbeen seen since."
Alex was chuckling. "I think I can guess why that 'strange explosive'failed to go off, sir," he said. "It was clay." And continuing, heexplained the mystery in detail. Superintendent Finnan laughed heartily.
"Well, Ward, you are certainly due a vote of thanks," he declaredseriously. "You saved the viaduct, and now you probably have broughtabout the ending of the entire trouble with the K. & Z. people. I'll notfail to turn in a thorough report of it."
XXII
THE DEFENSE OF THE VIADUCT
Thanks to the termination of the interference from the opposition road,the work on the extension progressed rapidly, and two weeks later foundthe rail-head seven miles beyond the Antelope viaduct, in the lowerslopes of the Dog Rib Mountains. The coveted pass to the Yellow Creekgold-field lay but eight miles distant, and as the K. & Z. was stilltwenty miles east, it appeared certain that the Middle Western would winthe great race.
The time had passed uneventfully with the three young telegraphers, theend of the second week finding Alex and Jack together with theconstruction-train at the rail-head, and Wilson Jennings back at thetemporary station and material-sidings at the viaduct.
Perhaps the last few days had passed least interestingly with Wilson,alone in his little box-car station, not far from the old river-bed.Saturday had seemed particularly slow, for some reason, and shortly after8 o'clock Wilson threw aside a book he had been reading, and catching uphis hat, made for the door, for a brief stroll, previous to retiring.
The moon was momentarily showing through a break in the cloudy sky, andlooking to the west, Wilson was somewhat surprised to discover thefigures of two men approaching. When as he watched they reached the firstof a train of tie-cars, and leaving the rails, continued forward in theshadows, Wilson stepped back, in disquiet.
The strangers came opposite, and paused, looking toward the stationwindow and speaking in subdued voices. Convinced that something wasafoot, the young operator turned quickly, and stooping low, that hisshadow might not be seen on the window, crept to the little instrumenttable and reached for the telegraph key. He opened, and pressed it down.The sounder did not respond. He tried again, adjusting the relay, andturned about in genuine alarm.
The wire had been cut! Some mischief was surely afoot.
From without came the crunch of stealthy footsteps. Springing to hisbunk, Wilson secured his revolver and belt--the same taken from thewould-be bullion thief he had captured at Bonepile--and stealing to therear door, slipped out and to the ground just as the strangers approachedthe opposite side of the little car-depot.
The car was raised on a foundation of ties, and as the two men entered,Wilson crept beneath.
"No one here," said a gruff voice. "Say, do you s'pose he saw us, andsneaked?"
"Like as not. I told you to keep to the rails and come straight up,"chided the other.
"Perhaps he will come back. We're in charge of the station anyway. Thatwas the real thing."
Wilson waited to hear no more. Creeping forth, he stole off toward theravine, intending to get out of sight in its shadows.
A short distance from the head of the viaduct was the green light of asmall target-switch. The head of the downward path lay just beyond, andWilson headed for the light. He reached it, and passed on.
Abruptly he halted and turned about. Like an inspiration had come theremembrance of Alex Ward's signalling feat two years before at Bixton, ofwhich he had heard from Jack Orr. Could he not do the same? Try andsignal Alex or Jack, at the construction-train? Say, from one of thebox-cars at the farther corner of the yard?
Casting a glance toward the little station to assure himself that all wasquiet there, Wilson retraced his steps to the switch, removed thelantern, and tucking it under his coat, was off between the material-carsfor the farthermost corner of the sidings.
The outermost car was a box-car. Climbing the ladder, with hishandkerchief Wilson tied the lantern to the topmost rung, the red lightout, and using his hat just as Alex had done, began flashing the call ofthe construction-train,
"KX, KX, V! KX, KX, V!"
* * * * *
Since the construction-train had started from Yellow Creek Junction ithad been a center of attraction to coyotes for fifty miles around, andone of the few recreations enjoyed by the men of the train had beenhunting them at night.
This Saturday night Alex and Jack, borrowing Winchesters from othermembers of the telegraph-car party, had set out for a "couple of goodrugs," as they put it, and on leaving the train had headed east, towardthe aqueduct, in which direction they had heard barks of the midnightprowlers.
They had gone perhaps three miles, and had fired on several of the wilyanimals, without success, when suddenly Jack caught Alex by the arm andpointed away to the east.
"Look, Al! What's that?"
"Why, it looks like--It is! It's a signal light!
"And calling us--KX!" cried Alex. "Something must be wrong with Wilson!"
"What'll we do? Back to the train?"
"Have you a match and some paper?" said Alex, going hurriedly through hisown pockets.
"Some matches."
"Here's a couple of letters. Come on back to the rails, find some chips,and make a fire. See if we can't answer him, and learn what the troubleis."
They were already racing for the track, reached it, and quickly gatheringtogether a little pile of dry bark and chips knocked from the ties, madea fire at the track-side, and lit it.
As the flames burst up Alex threw off his coat, and using it as acurtain, raised and lowered it in a flashed "I, I, KX!"
The call twinkled on. Wilson had not seen it. But the next moment, beforeAlex had completed a second answer, the red light disappeared. Alex againshot forth the gleaming "I, I, KX!" and in blinking response they read:
"Chased out of station. Two men. Wire cut. Something wrong. Help!--V."
"OK. But we are three miles from the train. Hunting. Will we come, or goback for help?" signalled Alex.
There was a pause, and the red light blinked, "Come! Quick!"
"OK. Coming." Only pausing to stamp out the fire, the two boys were awayat a run, heading directly for the light, which at intervals Wilsoncontinued to show,
as a guide.
Their open-air experience of a month had put the two boys in the best ofcondition, and keeping on at a smart pace, within half an hour the lightshowed just ahead, and a few minutes after Wilson ran forward to greetthem.
"I don't know what's in the air, but certainly something," he announced."As you fellows are armed too, suppose we go back and get the two men inthe station car, and see if we can't make them tell?" he suggested.
"Lead ahead," agreed the others.
Stealthily they made their way amid the intervening cars, and emergedopposite the little depot.
In the window was the shadow of a man smoking.
They stole across to the door, and Wilson, leading, cautiously glancedwithin. He turned and held up one finger. Revolver in hand, he tiptoed upthe steps, and with a cry sprang inside and toward the man in the chair.The intruder was so taken by surprise that he tumbled over backward. In ajiffy the three boys were upon him, and had pinned him to the floor; andwhile Alex closely clutched his mouth, to prevent him calling out, theothers speedily bound his hands and feet with some convenient pieces ofwire.
Satisfied that their prisoner was firmly secured, and having removed hispistol and cartridge-belt, the boys replaced him in the chair, andWilson, pointing his revolver at the man's head, demanded, "Where is yourpard? And what are you and he up to?"
There was a look of amusement in the man's face as Alex removed his hand,and he replied, "Nothin' doin', boys. You'll have to guess."
"I'll give you three, to tell," said Wilson, assuming a fierce expressionand beginning to count.
The prisoner laughed outright. "You gentleman kids wouldn't shoot a fly,"he declared coolly.
Wilson colored with mortification. For of course he had had no intentionof shooting. Even Alex and Jack were forced to smile at the turn of thesituation. Wilson had his revenge, however. "Gag him, then, Al," hesuggested, "and we will stow him away beneath the car."
The man's mouth opened for a shout. In a flash Alex had slapped ahandkerchief between his teeth, and despite the man's struggles stuffedit well in. Then, taking from his neck a long colored neckerchief, hebound it twice about the man's face.
"Now out with him, this side," said Wilson, opening the rear door.
"Wouldn't it be better to take him over under one of the cars on thesidings?" Jack suggested. "His pard might return, and he kick, or makesome kind of a noise underneath."
"That's so." Dragging their prisoner forth, they glanced up and down tosee that no one was in sight, and with Jack at his feet and Alex andWilson at his arms, they hastened across the rails, passed between twofreight-cars, and in the deep shadow beyond placed him on the ground andbound him firmly to a rail.
"Be sure you don't talk now," said Wilson derisively as they turned away.
"What next?" Jack asked.
"It's pretty sure to be some mischief about the bridge. Let's have a lookaround there," suggested Alex.
Approaching the brink of the ravine at a point some distance from theviaduct, the boys glanced below. From the three broke a simultaneous lowcry of understanding and indignation.
In the light of several lanterns a party of seemingly fifteen or twentymen were piling brush about the base of one of the central wooden piers.
"The K. & Z. people again, sure as you're born!" exclaimed Alex hotly."And after their solemn agreement!"
"If they succeed in burning it, they will hold back our supplies two orthree weeks, and reach the pass ahead of us, dead certain," added Jackthrough his teeth. "We've got to stop them, boys!"
"Isn't there a hand-car or a velocipede here, Wilse?" Alex inquired.
"No. Not even a push-car. And it'd take one of us an hour and a half toreach the construction-train."
"But that's certainly the only thing to be done," Jack pointed out."Perhaps two of us, with the rifles, could hold them--"
A flicker of light broke out below which was not a lantern, andapproached the dimly disclosed brush-pile. Quick as a flash Jack's riflewent to his shoulder, and there was a reverberating crash. The lightdisappeared and there came up a chorus of surprised shouts and theclatter of running feet.
"Now we are in for it. I think we had better stick it out together," saidAlex quietly. "Perhaps the firing will be heard at the train."
The others agreed, and at Wilson's suggestion they made their way a fewfeet down the slope to a ledge from which the whole structure of thebridge could dimly be seen.
"How are you fellows off for ammunition?" whispered Wilson.
"I have four more rounds in the rifle, and thirty in my belt," said Jack.
"Five in the gun and twenty-seven in the belt," Alex announced.
Wilson had been examining the revolver and belt they had taken from theprisoner, and which he had brought with him. "Fourteen in the two pistolsand nearly sixty in the two belts," he said.
"We ought to be able to put up all kinds of a fight," Alex declaredconfidently. "That is, unless they--"
He broke off, and all leaned forward, peering down into the gloom, andlistening. From a little to the left rose the clatter of a pebble. Wilsonstretched himself on his face, and bent over, one of his pistolsextended. Barely breathing, they waited, and again came a faint clatteras of loosened earth, nearer.
"Don't let him get too close," Alex whispered.
There came the sound of something snapping, a smothered exclamation, andinstantly Wilson fired. There was a shrill cry, and the crash ofsomething rolling downward. At the same moment from below came a crashingvolley of shots, and bullets snarled upward by them like a swarm of bees.The boys shrank back flat, then leaned over and returned two quickvolleys.
Another cry indicated that one of their bullets had found a mark, andfollowing a scattering return volley from the darkness there were soundsof a hurried scuttling for cover.
"Anyone touched?" Jack asked.
"I think I lost a little hair," said Wilson quietly.
"Me too," said Alex. "But a miss is as good as a mile, you know. And wehave the advantage so far."
"Sh!" warned Jack. In the silence came the sound of running footstepsfarther up the gully, followed by a continuous rattle of falling stones.
"They're making a rush up another path. Quick, and stop them!" exclaimedWilson, starting to his feet.
"Hold on," Alex interrupted as they reached the crest of the slope."Perhaps it's a ruse to get us away, so they can start the fire. You tworun and chase them down, and I'll stay and watch here. If you need help,shout."
Wilson and Jack sprang away along the brink of the ravine. A hundredyards distant the sounds of men ascending rose from directly beneaththem. Without pause they fired. Cries of rage followed, and as the boysdropped to the ground a dozen bullets whined over them. Promptly Wilsonreplied with the entire seven shots from one of his pistols, there was acrash as of someone falling, then a general scrambling as the entireparty apparently tumbled precipitately down the steep slope. Rising totheir feet, the boys fired several more shots, and hastened back towardAlex.
As they neared him the crash of his rifle told he had guessed rightlythat another attempt would be made to light the fire.
"Quick!" he said, slamming the loading mechanism. "They're sticking toit!"
Wilson and Jack saw several twinkling flames, and the roar of Alex's nextshot was followed by the crash of their own weapons. A cry of agonyfollowed, and one of the lights disappeared. Another faltered, and alsowent out.
Alex once more brought up his rifle, took careful aim; the jet of flameleaped from the muzzle, and with a shout the boys saw the last spot oflight describe an arc in the air, and go out.
An angry howl followed, then a continuous volley from several differentpoints. The spirit of fight had taken full possession of the three ladson the brink of the ravine, however, and lying close, they gave back shotfor shot, quickly but steadily. Finally a lull came, and Alex roseexultingly on an elbow and shouted below, "Come on, you cowards! Come--"
From behind one of the bridge
pillars leaped a flame, and with a sharpintake of breath Alex slipped sideways. But as Wilson and Jack sprang tohis side he again rose. "It's nothing," he declared. "Just a graze insidethe arm."
The quiet continuing, the others insisted on removing Alex's coat, andfeeling, found the shirt-sleeve wet. "Tie a handkerchief round it," Alexdirected. "There. That's all right.
"That's what I get for allowing myself to be carried away, isn't it?" headded as Wilson and Jack helped him into his coat. "I didn't realizehow--"
All three snatched up their weapons and spun about.
A tall stooped figure was standing within a few feet of them.
"Surrender!" cried Wilson. "_Quick, or I'll--_"
"It me, Little Hawk," said a quiet voice. "Why shoot?"
With a common cry of joy the boys sprang forward, and quickly explainedthe situation. The Indian grunted. "Not K. & Z. man," he said. "Badcowboy, miner, gambler, from Yellow Creek. Makeum big bet K. & Z. win,come burn bridge, makeum win. Little Hawk hearum talk, come follow,hearum fight, come quick.
"Thinkum big fight. Only three boy fight, eh?" he added in surprise.
Alex had been considering. "Look here, Little Hawk," he suggested, "youride back to the construction-train and give the alarm, will you? I thinkwe have these fellows scared now, and can hold them till help comes. Andnone of us could ride that pony of yours."
"I findum nother hoss--cowboy hoss," said the Indian, pointing the way hehad come. "You go, takeum, Little Hawk stay fight."
Alex thought a minute. "No; I'd rather stick, and see the thing through,now," he declared.
"Me too," said Jack promptly.
"Same here," Wilson agreed.
"It's up to you, then, Little Hawk.
"Say, hold on!" Alex interrupted as the Indian turned away. "Boys, howabout Little Hawk taking our prisoner back with him on the other horse?The folks at the train might get some information out of him.
"Could you take him, Little Hawk?" he asked.
The redskin grunted assent. "Tieum to saddle," he said.
"I'll go and show him where the rascal is," volunteered Wilson.
A few minutes later, with the boys' prisoner trailing behind, securelybound to the saddle of the wandering horse he had picked up, the Indianwas off across the plain to the west at the top of his mottled pony'sspeed.
When Wilson returned to Alex and Jack he found them busy constructing aminiature block-house of ties they had thrown from a neighboring car."That's the idea," he said, joining them. "We could hold out in that allnight, easily."
"No; leave that opening, Wilse," Jack interposed as Wilson began closinga gap at one of the corners. "That's to command the bridge. We're goingto fire through, not over."
The boys had just completed their little fort when from the top of thegully immediately opposite came a spit of flame, followed by theplaintive hum of a pistol bullet above them. Promptly they dropped belowthe ties, and Alex, who had that side, aimed toward the spot at which hehad seen the flash, and as it spat out again, crashed back with hisWinchester. From several points along the opposite level a ragged firefollowed, and continued intermittently.
Then finally, as the boys had half expected, there came a smatteringvolley from amid the cars on the sidings behind them. The body of theirassailants had reached the surface on their side.
Now it was that the three began to experience their first real anxiety.For despite their show of confidence to one another, each secretly knewthat if a determined rush was made from near at hand, there was scarcelyan even chance of their standing it off.
As a provision against this eventuality Wilson did very little firingduring the almost steady exchange of shots that followed, keeping thechambers of his two revolvers always full. To the same end, Alex and Jackused their magazine-rifles as single-shots, holding the magazines, fullycharged, in reserve.
"I think I'm getting one of them now and then," Alex was saying abouthalf an hour after the disappearance of the Indian. "Or else--" He brokeoff to fire again. "Unless their ammunition is giving out over there."
Suddenly Jack snapped open his magazine. "Here they come!" he whispered.Alex scrambled about beside him. Wilson thrust the pistol-barrels throughthe loop-hole.
WITH THE BOYS' PRISONER SECURELY BOUND TO THE SADDLEOF THE WANDERING HORSE, THE INDIAN WAS OFFACROSS THE PLAIN.]
From the dark line of the cars rose a shouted command, there came aripping volley of a dozen Colts, and a dim group of figures rushed towardthem.
"Now, steady!" warned Alex. "And shoot low!
"_Fire!_"
"_Crash!_" went the Winchesters, "_Crack, crack, crack!_" the pistols.
Two of the leading runners went to their hands and knees. The othersrushed on, shouting and spitting flames.
Keeping well under cover, the boys fired as quickly as they could worktheir weapons. Wilson felt a stinging snip at his right ear, and a warmstream trickling down his neck. He emptied the first pistol, and beganwith the second.
"_Crash! Crash!_" roared the Winchesters.
The attackers held on. They had made half the distance. In spite ofthemselves, the boys began firing nervously.
Closer the running figures came.
Jack snapped back his reloading mechanism, and pulled the trigger. Therewas no report.
His cry of consternation was echoed by Alex.
They had fired their last shots!
With a wild shout of triumph two of their assailants were upon them.
* * * * *
From a clear patch of sky bright moonlight flooded the construction-trainand the gray slope of the hill to the southeast about which the rails hadcrept that day. Grouped on the rear steps of the store-car, SuperintendentFinnan and several of his foremen sat and smoked, and listened.
"Yes; it's a horse," said one of the foremen.
"Two horses," declared the superintendent. "And coming as though Old Nickwere after them."
Over the moonlit rise swept a figure on horseback, then another.
On discovering the group at the car, the leader uttered a shrill whoop,and tore down the slope toward them.
"The first is Little Hawk! The other is a prisoner! What's wrong?" criedthe superintendent, springing to the ground.
The Indian pulled up in a cloud of dust before him, and threw himselffrom his reeking pony.
"Want burnum bridge," he said, indicating his prisoner. "Five, ten, more!Much more! Three boy--tick-knock boy--fightem!
"Hear? Hear?"
He placed his hand to his ear.
The incredulous group turned to the east and listened.
As from infinitely far away, half heard, half felt, came a low, deadened"Plugk!... Plugk, plugk!... Plugk!"
A moment the startled railroadmen stared at one another. Then quickly thesuperintendent spoke.
"Ryan, rout out the engineer and firemen! The rest of you run for yourguns, and a dozen good men from your gangs! Don't lose a minute!"
THE INDIAN PULLED UP IN A CLOUD OF DUST.]
The group scattered with a rush. Fifteen minutes later, with men fillingher cab and clustered on the tender, the engine was under way, rushingeastward.
As rapidly the speed was increased, the locomotive rocked and leaped overthe new roadbed, but with the superintendent at his elbow, the engineerdrove her up to the last notch, and the prairie streamed by them like ablanket.
Half the distance was made, and above the noise of the engine came asharp "Tap, tap! Tap, tap, tap!"
On the engine rushed, and the distant shapes of cars appeared.Simultaneously there came a crashing volley of shots, and a chorus ofshouting. The men on the engine gripped their guns, and stared ahead intothe space lit up by the headlight.
With reducing speed they struck a curve, and the stream of light swungabout toward the bridge. The next moment into the glare broke a group ofmadly struggling figures.
On the flash of the light the fighting ceased. There were cries of alarm,and the
renegades began to break and flee. A small party stood, and firedtoward the engine. But with a roar the railroadmen leaped and tumbled tothe ground, and rushed at them, and they too broke and fled.
And the great fight was over, and won.
The superintendent was first to reach the little barricade. Jack, hefound unconscious from a blow on the head. Wilson had fainted, and Alexdrooped limply on the wall of ties, exhausted past speaking. The faces,hands and clothes of all bore mute witness to the desperate struggle theyhad put up during those last terrible minutes.
Within a short time, however, all three boys had somewhat recovered, andwere able to take their places in the engine cab; and a half hour laterthe party headed back for the construction-train, coupled behind them abox-car containing eighteen prisoners. Ten of the captured men were foundto have been wounded, several seriously; but to the relief of the boysnone had been killed outright.
When rescued, rescuers and prisoners arrived at the construction-trainthey found an excited crowd of over three hundred men awaiting them. Andon the details of the affair quickly spreading, the three boys wereliterally swept from their feet by the enthusiastic foreigners, hoistedinto the air, and carried to the telegraph-car to a continuous roar of"hurrahs" and "bravos."
* * * * *
The following Wednesday a special train, to which was attached DivisionSuperintendent Cameron's private car, drew up at the rear of theboarding-train. Proceeding thither in response to a message, Alex andJack found Wilson, who had been picked up at the viaduct station,Construction Superintendent Finnan and several other Middle Westernofficials.
Having greeted them warmly, the division superintendent took a smallpackage from his desk, and opened it. "I know you don't like speeches,boys," he began; "and in any case, I'm not sure I could do justice to theoccasion. But, here! These three gold watches--the very finest thecompany's money could buy, I may say--will show you what we think of theloyalty to the company, and the splendid courage you three lads displayedlast Saturday night in defense of the Antelope viaduct.
"I might just read one of the inscriptions," he said, opening Alex'swatch.
"'To Alex Ward, from the Middle Western Railroad, in recognition of theheroic part he played in the defense of the Antelope viaduct, November2nd, 18--, and in thus ensuring the victory of the Middle Western in itsmemorable race with the K. & Z. for the Yellow Creek Pass.'
"For that is precisely what it meant," declared the superintendent. "Thepass is ours now, beyond any chance.
"And finally," he concluded, as Alex, Jack and Wilson, scarcely knowingwhat to say, took the three beautiful watches, "I would just like toremark that if you three boys do not some day stand where I stand, orhigher, I'll be both greatly surprised and disappointed."
* * * * *
That this prediction was justified, you can to-day learn from anydirectory of railroad officials--for there, in the pages devoted to theMiddle Western, you will find the name of Alexander Ward, Superintendent,Western Division; John Orr, Superintendent, Central Division; and, asGeneral Superintendent of Telegraphs, Wilson A. Jennings.
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